Laura Strom


One, Two, Three - Poem by Laura Strom

admitting the pain has never done me any good
i'd rather be alone, maybe read a book.
never talk about the details
never whince or shrug
never look into their eyes
never accept their gentle hugs.

it makes me ill to replay the memory
the night my virginity was stolen from me
the night my guilt burst off the charts
the night u ripped off a piece of my heart.
leaving me with scraps...just a sliver of my soul
making my mind black, my eyes like coal.

I wish i was 15 again...
i never would've gone
to that party they were throwin
i got there around 1.
I didn't fit in with any of the crowd

they were all so wild...
so drunk...so loud.
i wanted to go home
but he pleaded that i stay.
it happened on this night
near the month of may.

i never drank the whole night through
even tho that's what u wanted me to do.
all i drank was a sprite...or was it pepsi?
watever it was it made me tipsy.

i didn't remember how i got there
but i do recall the ice cold glare
u sent my way as i sat on the couch
told me to put u in my mouth
i then refused ademmently
and that's when u began hitting me.

u called ur friend over...
u all got ur hits.
i was so dizzy...it was so hard to see
i prayed out loud...'Save me save me! '
to whom could hear i did not know
but if they heard their face never showed.

i was thrown on the ground
head up against the wall.
i fought i screamed i tried to crawl
tried to push you but u just wouldn't fall.

your strength times 3 was too much for me.
u won me over...i was on the ground
u opened my knees as they held me down.
U pounded, i bled, my tears were shed.

'next' u snarled as u made u rotation.
as if u'd had practice doing this before.
as the SECOND one got ready he called me 'whore'
he was angry...meaner than the first had been
for he chuckled to himself. He wore an evil grin.

so here i am with arms bound.
wondering if there was a God looking down
seeing his child being hurt, abused.
i coudn't think straight i was so confused.

the second was done, the THIRD had begun
i was over i knew the battle they had won.
i must have passed out because i woke up
with a blanket round my body
a bandaid on my cut.
they drove me home...wished me farewell
i went inside...and i entered my hell.


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Read poems about / on: farewell, home, evil, night, memory, strength, remember, child, friend, pain, alone, children



Poem Submitted: Monday, October 6, 2003



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